


Friends and Money Don't Mix

by Berty



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Magic Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-24
Updated: 2006-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berty/pseuds/Berty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray wants a loan. Fraser wants an answer. Dief wants lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends and Money Don't Mix

Ray sank into the front seat and waited for Fraser to let the wolf in and settle himself; hat, seatbelt, hands in lap. But instead of turning the ignition, Ray sighed and scrubbed his face. He stared out of the windshield, worrying his lip with his teeth. "Frase, lend me a hundred and eighty bucks." It wasn't really a question so much as an instruction.

"Well, what for Ray?"

"Doesn't matter, just lend it me, okay?"

"I'd be glad to, but why can't you tell me...?"

"Look. What's the big deal?" For the first time Ray looked across at him.

Fraser schooled his face into a politely interested mask and waited for an explanation. He tried a different tack. "It's not a 'big deal' as you put it, however one hundred and eighty dollars is a significant sum of money..."

"No, it's not. A thousand bucks is significant - a million bucks is extremely significant, but one hundred and eighty measly dollars is **not** earth-shattering Fraser. If it was, **I** would be more significant."

Fraser blinked at that and made the "ah" sound he always made when he didn't understand what Ray was blithering about. It didn't improve matters.

Ray scowled. "So are you going to lend it to me or not? _Without_ knowing what it's for," Ray added before Fraser could start his next objection. Ray was jittery and confrontational, like he was winding himself up for something.

Fraser clicked his neck and reached for his Stetson in its familiar place on the GTO's dash. Casting furtive glances at Ray, he turned it over and reached inside the brim.

"We once had a conversation about friends and money, Ray," Fraser reminded him, his hands still failing to come up with the goods.

Ray sighed. "Yeah, I remember. That's before we were friends though."

"It wasn't," Fraser replied indignantly. "I thought of you as a friend by then."

"Yeah? Well I still thought you were a bit of a freak."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"You asked if I thought you were attractive," Fraser pointed out, as if that was an end to the matter.

Ray sniggered and shot a smile at his partner, changing the whole look of his face, making him seem younger and less careworn somehow. " Freak you out much?"

"Not at all," Fraser said, staring resolutely out of the windshield at the busy Chicago street scene unfolding around them. Cars hummed by, business people with their heads down talking into cell phones dodged shoppers and dog walkers. It was a marked contrast to the stillness inside the GTO; a swirl of colour and movement and noise that Fraser didn't really register at all. He dragged his eyes back to his twitchy partner.

Ray smiled at him, obviously considering that point won. "You said 'friends and money don't mix.'"

"That's right."

"You still believe that?"

"Within reason."

"Hmm," Ray pondered. Now he was just being deliberately provocative.

"Hmm?" Fraser echoed. "In what manner 'Hmm'?"

"Well, it's just as well we're not friends then," Ray shrugged.

"We're not?" Fraser asked mildly, wondering how long it would take for Ray to get to the point. Diefenbaker repeated exactly the same question from the back seat, adding that he thought that the term "lunch break" usually included some actual lunch.

"Yeah, yeah. Once the Mountie coughs up the moolah, we're on our way," Ray replied into the rear-view mirror to Fraser's surprise. Then he turned in his seat, laying a seemingly casual arm along the steering wheel. "And no, Frase. We're not friends, are we? 'Cos I've had friends - I've _got_ friends, Fraser - I know what friends are. And we're not that. I mean...we're not _just_ friends. Are we?"

If Ray had wanted an example of the word "significant" it was right there on his face. The intense way his grey/blue eyes held Fraser's, the determined set of his jaw and his stillness as he waited for his response were all significant in a way that none of the twelve month build up to this moment had been.

Up to now it could all have been laughed off or ignored or rationalised away. All the glances, all the smiles that lasted just a shade too long, all the weekends when they could have spent some time apart, but somehow never did, all the seemingly unconscious physical contact - it was just buddies, as Ray would say. Friendship stuff. Partnership stuff. Best buddies, even.

And now, in a single second, with one meaningful pause and a challenging gaze, Ray had just blown all their hiding places away.

Fraser lowered his eyes to his Stetson and was distressed to see that he had seriously buckled the brim in a way that only a steam iron would solve. With quick fingers he slipped the bills from the band inside his hat, and without lifting his head to meet Ray's suddenly fearless eyes, he held them out.

Ray took them gently, closing his fist around the neatly folded banknotes. Fraser heard the squeak of the leather seat as Ray turned and opened the door. "Sure?" he asked quietly, before he got out.

Fraser took a deep breath and found that it was much easier to smile than he'd imagined. He brought a clear-eyed gaze up to Ray, letting the smile carry him along. "Sure."

Fraser watched Ray walk back across the street and into the travel agency they had both so recently vacated. His loose-hipped stride and habitual slouch made him seem confident and knowing - like an animal in its natural environment.

The same girl greeted Ray, and Fraser saw him gesture back towards where they were parked. The girl turned to her computer for a few moments and then looked up at Ray with an emphatic nod, and he slid into a chair while he waited.

Dief wuffed quietly from the back seat.

"He's booking another flight ticket to Yellowknife. We can make our way from there."

Grrrruff.

"No, not for you. For him."

Whine.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's only two weeks, and you know how much you enjoy staying with Turnbull."

Whuffle.

"The last time you stayed with Francesca, you put on six kilogrammes and became addicted to _Days of Our Lives_ , Diefenbaker. Never again."

The wolf got up and pointedly turned his back on Fraser, settling back down to sleep again while they waited. Then without cracking an eye open he quietly asked another question.

"I believe he does, yes."

A very, very soft wuff.

"Yes, Dief, I do."

Humph.

"Thank you. Although what you know about it remains to be seen, as you can hardly be called constant in your affections, now, can you?"

Grrrrrrawwwfffff.

"No, we can't. I just lent Ray the last of my cash, so you'll have to wait 'til suppertime."

Whimper.

"No, Dief. I don't think love sucks at all."

 

Fin


End file.
